When the Heart Falls(30)

I see his shadow walk away.

"He tried to touch my tits," I scream out to the night. He also watched me pee, but I can't bring myself to even speak that out loud. I want to die.

I'm faced with another dilemma when I'm finished. No toilet paper. Naturally. So I stand there, willing myself to air dry, as anger builds in me. Men are scum. I'm so over them.

Except a small voice in the back of my mind whispers that not all men are scum. Some are kind, polite and gallant. Some go out of their way to help others, are strong and brilliant and amazing. Some, well, one, makes me feel like melting with just a touch, makes me feel safe with just his presence.

When I don't feel so completely disgusting, I pull my panties back on, hop to get my missing shoe, and go off in search of Jenifer.

She's grinding on Duke, their tongues thrust into each other's mouths. If not for their clothes, they'd be screwing on the dance floor.

I walk up to her. "It's time to go home."

Jenifer ignores me and continues her dry humping.

I scream in her ear. "Hey, Jenifer!"

She looks up, eyes unfocused, lipstick smeared around her lips.

"Let's go home." I'm fighting tears now, on the edge of my temper.

"Already?" She turns back to Duke. "But we're having fun."

"Not anymore." I take her hand, but she pulls away.

"I'll come home later."

My face hardens. "You'll come home now."

"Don't go all Ice Queen on me."

Bitch. "I'm not. I'm going Raging Fire of Hate on your ass if you don't leave with me right now."

Jenifer leans over to whisper in my ear. "He's really nice. I won't sleep with him right now. I promise. Just, let me get to know him better."

"You're practically sleeping with him already. What are you getting to know? The inside of his mouth?"

"Why do you have to be so frigid? I'm just having fun," she says. "It's not my fault if you're a prude who can't relax."

Her words cut me, but I ignore it. "Jenifer, you swore."

"I remember."

"Fine, whatever." I'm not her mother. I can't force her to do something she doesn't want to do. "I'll see you tonight."

"See you tonight." She giggles and starts grinding on Duke again.

I leave without a glance back, disgusted, tired, angry and… and I don't even know what. I hail a cab to get back to my dorm and take such a long, hot shower that the water goes cold.

Once back in my room, I open my laptop and find the scene I was working on before this disastrous night happened. I don't want to think about Jenifer and her stupid choices, about the pee hole, about my newly discovered feelings for Cade… none of it. I just want to feel my characters and help them fall in love.

But the words won't come. I have no inspiration, no emotion to draw from. I'm like a wrung out husk of a human, completely drained.

Night settles around me, the bewitching hour comes and goes and still I have no words. My roommate does not return. At 3 a.m. I give up and curl into bed, the tears finally falling as I cry myself to sleep.





WINTER DEVEAUX

CHAPTER 12





VINCENT, THE OWNER of the restaurant who'd comped our dinners the night Jenifer and I got food poisoning, smiles and places a basket of fresh bread on our table. "Comment allez-vous?"

Cade responds with precise words, practicing his diction. "Très bien, et vous?"

"Très bien, aussi!" He and Cade go back and forth making polite pleasantries in French, before Cade stumbles on a sentence and reverts back to English.

Vincent claps his hands together. "Your French, it is much better. We like to think it is our food, but I'm thinking it is your girl's help more, no?"

When Cade laughs, the world goes quiet for me, and all I can hear is the low timber of his voice. He pats my hand. "It's definitely my girl's help, but the food doesn't hurt. Can't study on an empty stomach."

Speaking of stomachs, mine flip-flops when he calls me his girl. His girl. The possessiveness of that term, said with such affection, makes it hard to keep the lines of friendship drawn in the sand. For two weeks we've danced around that line, meeting daily for French lessons and dinner, spending our free time together seeing the sights of Paris and talking about our work. He's become my best friend, the last person I want to talk to at night and the first person I look forward to seeing when I wake up.

Vincent excuses himself to see to other tables, leaving us alone again.

"Okay, spill it," I say.

Cade makes big doe eyes at me. "Spill what?"

I slap his arm. "You know what. Show me the test!"

It can't be too bad, since his mood has been high since we left the Sorbonne, but I'm dying to see how he did after a few weeks working with me.

He reaches for his book bag and hands me the paper. There's red on it, more than I'd hoped would be, but the final mark shows a 78%. "Cade, this is great! You must be thrilled!" I lean over and hug him. It's a friendly gesture, but when his hand strokes my hair, trailing down my back, and my mouth presses into the hot flesh of his neck, the friendliness evaporates into heat.